Her eyes rolled back in her head and I got the deep, gravelly moan that told me I’d hit the right spot inside her.
No words were necessary. I didn’t have to tell her she was mine because we both knew it. My heart swelled at the way she submitted and molded to me, and even though her eyes were closed in bliss, she angled her face the right way to kiss me when I leaned down. My mouth covered hers and my cock pulsed at her sharp intake of breath. Her hands grasped my shoulders and then gripped them with punishing strength as I thrust faster and harder.
I scraped the pad of my thumb over her nipple as I took her mouth with mine, and she opened to me, let me do what I wanted as she went wild beneath me.
I waited until she’d recovered from the half-dozen orgasms I’d given her before I got us up and started breakfast. I only had one orgasm, so it didn’t take me long to recover.
“You had your own crew in prison.” She already knew I’d kept track of her. No need in making it a question.
“I positioned myself so I’d take over the top position when she got paroled. Taking it wasn’t too hard, but keeping it kept me on my toes.” She shrugged. “I held it over a decade — too bad I can’t use that on an application for a management job.”
I grinned, but didn’t let her get me off the subject. “Did you just have sex with your girlfriend? Or were there others?”
“You have to know there were others.”
“And since you were top dog, you were in control during sex.”
“Yeah, and that worked for me with women, but I love it when you take control.”
“The hand on the chest didn’t work for me.”
“I noticed, but your response worked for me big time, which kind of surprised me.”
“You always liked it when I got rough.”
“Before… when you were still a SEAL… your first days home, especially when they sent you home after a big mission…” She looked out the window a few seconds before looking back to me. “I never knew who I’d have. Sometimes, it was as if you were haunted, and you were using sex to block whatever had happened. Other times, it was almost like I was your lifeline, and after a few rough sessions you were mega-sweet.”
“Most of what I do now’s pretty simple, but I won’t lie and say it’s a cushy job. I still come home a little haunted sometimes.”
“And I’ll do what I can to help you.”
“Do you need an outlet for your aggression?” I’d watched her work out, and it looked to me like she needed to spar and fight, or at the very least tear into a heavy bag.
“The attorney you hired for me said I shouldn’t take a martial arts or self-defense course while on parole. It isn’t technically against the rules, but if anything else should happen, it doesn’t look good. I thought about joining a gym to work out, but I’ve just been doing push-ups and sit-ups and whatever else I can do at home, because I don’t want to spend the money to join a gym.”
“I can take you to the gym at Drake Security a few times a week, and we can get you some handheld weights you can keep at home.” I smelled distress and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I just realized I owe you for the attorney, too.”
“Fuck, Keesh. No, you don’t. I hired him with no expectation of being repaid. We’re good.”
“Why do you sound mad?”
“I never minded taking care of you and providing for you. Don’t go from one extreme to the other, okay? I’m willing to let you stand on your own two feet for the year or so it’ll take us to get you off parole and get your felony expunged, but then you’re going to let me take care of you again.”
She turned her back to me as she muttered, “Damned hard-headed wolf.”
“Damned hard-headed human.”
I sent love to her through our bond as I said it, and she turned and threw her hands into the air. “I love you, too, but we need to figure this out!”
Darnell
We didn’t get much resolved before I had to drive around a bit before I could take her home, and she had to get ready for work.
I drove to the Drake building when she left for work, because Aaron said he needed to see me.
“We have a brainstorming session for the security needs of a new client tomorrow.” He handed me a USB drive. “I’d like you to look through what we have and lead the meeting.”
I accepted it from him and asked, “Same password pattern?”
He nodded and motioned for me to sit. “Abbott has a policy of looking for intent before he messes with the judicial system. Part of your agreement with him was that he’d go into the judge’s head and push him — or her — in the right direction only if a trip into Keisha’s head told him she’s learned her lesson and won’t offend again.”
I nodded.
“He went into her head during the party.”
“He’d better not try to say she’s planning to make meth again, because I know better.”
“No, she’s good, but there’s something else.”
My heart tumbled into my stomach as I waited for him to tell me.
“A few guards took advantage of her. One in particular, but it looks like four in total used their power over her to demand sexual favors.”
I pushed my wolf down as I said, “I’m assuming you have their names?”
“I do, but if you go after them and law enforcement learns it’s you, she’ll likely go back to jail.”
“Then no one can know it’s me. Tell me about the one in particular.”
“After the first time she beat someone so badly they ended up in the hospital and she did a long stint in solitary, she learned where and how to dole out future beatings. One of the guards knew she’d done one of them and threatened to turn her in if she didn’t put out.” Aaron rubbed his jawline with the backs of his fingers. “This guard apparently only engages in anal sex with inmates, to make sure none get pregnant.”
I remembered her reaction and swore under my breath. “He’s going to die with something up his ass.”
“You can’t kill him.”
I lifted my eyebrow, clearly letting him know I could.
“I’ll go with you and we’ll arrange an accident that puts him out of commission enough he can’t work at the prison anymore. I’ll work through my government contacts to get the other three transferred to the men’s facility. Will that work for you?”
I sighed. “Only because of the huge investigation I can foresee happening if four guards are beaten up within days of each other — one of them critically injured or killed.”
“You’ll need an alibi if any of them are beaten up.”
“What did the other three do?”
“Sex to look the other way. Sex to fill out a report that made her look good. They came to her with demands, she didn’t go to them with an offer, but they’d at least negotiate with her. They took her between three and eight times each over the course of time she was there. Not like the main guard, who was in her a couple of times a week when he could work the schedule to find a way to get her alone.”
“And the main guard raped her ass?”
“And her mouth.” His face was tense, as if he expected me to lose it.
“I can’t ask you to do this alone, and I need to feel my fist impacting his face.”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “You have to know we need to be smart about this.”
“What do you propose?”
He grinned. “Thought you’d never ask. He regularly spends time in a rough little honkytonk bar. I’ll go in disguise and beat the hell out of him in a bar fight — and get lost before cops show up. I’ll mess him up enough he won’t be able to go back to work. He’s married with two kids, but the wife makes double what he does. Family’ll be fine.”
I sighed. “Okay, but you’ll let me do a mission you don’t pay me for.”
“Not the way this works. When I need something off the books, I’ll let you know.”
“Yeah, okay. Let me know when Keisha and I need to establish an
alibi. If you need anything from me, consider it done. I’m gonna get some range time in before I go home and look through the new client’s information.”
Chapter 13
Keisha
I was exhausted after working from noon till seven with barely a fifteen-minute break. I’d had an incredible day, and used some of my tips to stop and buy fast food on the way home so I wouldn’t have to cook.
I parked the bike in Darnell’s garage, locked it up, and headed across the yards to my house — and stopped halfway across when I realized he was on my porch.
“We need to talk.”
My heart went into my throat at his tone. “What’s happened?”
“You’ve sidestepped me a few times now when I’ve brought up using your ass. Your smell was off this morning. What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not saying I don’t want to at all, just that I’m enjoying our sex life the way it is right now, and I’d rather wait to add stuff later.”
I stood in my yard and looked up at him, sitting on my porch, for probably thirty seconds.
“You know.”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t before.”
“No.”
“How’d you find out?”
“The person who checked our relationship bond last night has a policy about checking for intent before agreeing to mess with the human justice system. My agreement with him included him making sure you didn’t intend to make meth again before he’ll do his thing with the judge.”
“You gave him permission to look through my head.”
“I did.”
“Without asking me.” I was pissed, but I was too tired to fight with him right now. I sounded monotone even to my own ears, but I was surprised at the anger I felt.
“Yes.”
“He apparently looked farther than just seeing my intentions.”
Darnell sighed. “Come here, please. I don’t like talking to you with this divide between us.”
“I’m not sure I want to see you tonight. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I need a shower.”
“Come here, Keisha.”
“I’m… I don’t want to. I’d like you to go home and give me some space, please.”
“You’re upset?”
Darnell’s a man of few words when he’s pissed, and I understood he was asking what else was wrong. He picked up on the fact this was about more than just his letting someone poke around in my head.
I sighed and explained. “You don’t have to be nice to people in a prison salon. You can be grumpy if you don’t feel like being pleasant — and no one’ll say a word about it. Especially if you have a reputation for hurting people who disrespect you.”
“But you have to be nice to everyone at work, even when you don’t feel like it.”
I nodded. “I’m tired, Darnell. Not just physically tired, but mentally and emotionally. I have to be back at work at ten in the morning, so I’d really like to shower, eat my food, read for an hour or so, and go to sleep.”
“How about you let me take care of you? Get your shower. I have ice cream in my freezer. I’ll get it and we’ll have ice cream together after you eat, and then I’ll rub your feet and hold you until you fall asleep. I’ll go home to sleep so I don’t get you up early, since I’ll be waking around five thirty.”
“You aren’t hearing me.” In prison, you go where the guards send you, spend time with whoever’s there. I’d gained a little control by fighting my way to the top of the food chain, but this was my house and I should be able to be alone in it. Except it was really his house, and he was letting me live in it. Shit. Maybe I needed to get my own apartment if I really wanted to stand on my own two feet.
Who was I kidding — Darnell wouldn’t let me be alone in an apartment, either.
“Yeah, I am. I hear you, Keesh, and I’m offering to pamper you because you’re tired.”
True, but I needed time alone before I could handle him being nice to me. We looked at each other another dozen seconds and he said, “No talk of prison, guards, or anal tonight. We have to talk about it eventually, but it doesn’t have to happen tonight.”
I closed my eyes, took a breath, and centered. “Compromise? Give me an hour to get a shower and eat, and then you can come with your ice cream.”
“Give me a hug before I go and you have a deal.”
Darnell
I agreed to go only because I could sense her exhaustion.
Also, when I told her I wasn’t leaving, I smelled something I couldn’t put my finger on, but it was bad. Not quite desperation, though not far from it. I hated leaving her alone when she was like this, but the thoughts of my staying seemed to make it worse.
I logged into the camera in my backyard on my phone, set it in the cradle on my dash so I’d see if she left — or if anyone else came — and I went to the store.
This needed more than just ice cream. We needed brownies and syrup, too.
As I drove, I considered how she’d react if she knew I was watching. She’d probably be pissed.
But here’s the thing about trust — once it’s broken, it takes a while to build. Our relationship bond guaranteed I’d know if she was planning something stupid, but I still needed to be sure she wasn’t up to something. She hadn’t wanted me around, and my gut told me she was truly tired and just needed some time alone… but the SEAL in me needed to keep watch.
I had chocolate-chip-cookie-dough ice cream in my freezer already, but I bought chocolate ice cream, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and brownies from the deli.
When I walked across the yard to her house, it was with two huge bowls — warm brownie, cold ice cream, hot fudge, and whipped cream. My wolf wasn’t at all happy with this treat, but I liked it just fine.
And Keisha would love it. I hoped.
She let me in with a towel on her head, and loose cotton pajamas on her body. She was clearly not trying to be sexy, and somehow she was sexier like this than she’d have been in negligée.
But tonight wasn’t about sex. It was about taking care of her.
I handed her bowl to her without saying anything. I’d let her discover what it was as she ate.
“This is more than ice cream.”
“Can’t get anything over on you,” I told her with a smile. She was so cute, I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “C’mon. Let’s eat.”
The moan she made when she got to the hot brownie underneath made it all worthwhile. God, I loved this woman.
Keisha
I was a new woman when I left for work the next day. He’d heated some coconut oil and given me a full body massage when we finished eating. Not the kind of massage a guy gives you when he wants sex, but what you get when you go to a massage therapist. Not that I’ve been to one since before I went to prison, but I remembered what they used to be like.
I fell asleep while he worked on me, and found a note on my bedside table the next morning.
I’ll have dinner waiting for you at my house when you get home from work.
It’s possible my day went better because I knew he’d be waiting for me when I got off. The annoying people didn’t annoy me as much as they had the day before, and the nice people were easier to be nice to. I was still exhausted after working a full day, but I looked forward to Darnell’s arms — I wasn’t dreading having to talk to yet another person.
“What were your hours in the prison salon?” he asked once we were seated and eating. He’d bought barbecue, baked beans, potato salad, slaw, and huge slabs of Texas toast from a local restaurant.
“Eight to five, minus my hour for lunch. Some days I worked in the school and not the salon. We were pulled in to help give one-on-one help sometimes.”
“How did they handle scissors and dye? Couldn’t those things be used as a weapon?”
“The only time the maximum-security people got my services was before a hearing, and there’s a small salon in the high-security building I had to use when I worked on th
em. I could only use clippers on them, no scissors and no dye. No curling iron, and a guard had to be right beside me when I used a flat iron.”
“I’m a little surprised it was okay in the other areas. It just seems a bad idea to make scissors available to prisoners.”
“When I was in max, we weren’t even allowed plastic forks to eat with, and we had to hand our plastic spoon to a guard when we finished eating. Moving to medium security meant I could own a toothbrush instead of being handed a sponge on a flimsy stick twice a day. I did my best to never get sent back to max.” I shrugged. “Kitchen workers in the medium and minimum security buildings use knives, construction workers use saws and hammers, hairstylists use scissors. Everything had to be accounted for at the end of the day before I could go back to my unit. I had all my sharp stuff on a wall so I could get a good look at it when someone left. The guards kept an eye out, too. The dyes were in a locked cabinet, and the guards only let me get out what I’d use for a single customer.”
“But you didn’t have to be nice.”
“No. I could tell whoever I was working on to shut their trap after I knew what they wanted. I didn’t have to deal with bullshit small-talk while I worked.” I sighed. “I’ve listened to the other women in the salon. They mostly ask questions and then give bullshit, ‘Oh, that sounds wonderful,’ or, ‘Wow, that must’ve been awful,’ kind of responses. I can do it — it just feels fake.”
“One of the nice things about bodyguarding? It’s okay to tell clients you’re there to protect them and conversation can be distracting.”
“You bodyguard people?”
“Sometimes. Mostly, I manage security for large events, and I help brainstorm security needs for specific buildings, people, and situations. Every once in a while, Aaron has a specific need for a black man to handle security, and he calls me in. He knows I don’t like doing it, but he works with me when I need stuff so I do the same for him.”
“Why would he need a black man, specifically?”
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